An unlikely couple CAN love
by DarkestAngellic
Summary: They were the most mis-matched pair known to exist, but their love is real and they look after one another.


**__****Disclaimer: I own nothing from FFVII, not the settings, not the characters, not the names. Nothing. I own absolutely nothing. It is all the property of the wonderful Square Enix. Also, Dante and anything else within the DMC world is property of its creators (see below to know why I don't know who these creators are).**

_**A/N:**__** Please note that I have heard of Devil May Cry, but have never had the opportunity to play it. I have no doubt that Dante is probably OOC in this ficlet, but that cannot be helped. Credit to this idea spawning in my head can go to the anonymous figure who sent me a request for something sweet for Chaos/Dante... It didn't turn out the way I planned, but I'm still happy with this all the same. Reviews are appreciated, so please let me know what you think.**_

* * *

Ever since they 'became' lovers the fighting was more frequent, the battles to keep the peace and preserve life. Dante thought he could handle anything the demons threw at him… He was wrong.

Having Chaos stumble into the house they shared, caked in dry blood and fuck knows what else, deathly pale, eyes glazed and his right arm twisted at an unnatural angle… That was probably the most terrifying experience in his life. It was Chaos for fuck's sake! He wasn't supposed to get so banged up! The WEAPON snarls at him when he approaches with the first aid kit, backing away with every step Dante took forward until he'd pressed himself into a corner with the only means of escape being to go _through_ Dante. Another snarl is given in warning and again Dante ignores it, grabbing the wrist of gold metal and hauling the stubborn idiot into the bathroom to get patched up and clean.

He learns over the course of tending to his lover's injuries that Chaos dealt with the demons who popped up in a _school_ of all places. Even though they busted him up pretty bad, since half the damage had healed by the time he got home, Chaos had managed to kill the tricky bastards. On his own. Not one person tried to help him. That thought alone has a dark scowl on Dante's face and he mutters curses under his breath while cleaning the wounds and bandaging them, taping up his lover's chest in an effort to help the healing mend his broken ribs correctly. Chaos argues with him several times ("I'm _fine_ Dante. Leave me be," being the most common retort), attempts to take the supplies from Dante, but each time he smacks that clawed hand away and glares at him until he shuts up. Yes, Chaos can heal. Yes, these injuries aren't fatal. Does Dante give a shit? Does he fuck. His lover is hurt and he will fucking help him get better if it was the last thing he ever did.

Injuries dealt with he makes a start on carefully washing away the blood and grime caked on Chaos' skin and matting his hair. He moves the damp cloth with just enough force to cut through the tenacious crap, but gentle enough to avoid hurting Chaos, horrified to realise he's one big mottled mess of black and dark blues and purples. There's hardly an inch of his torso _not_ bruised. Dante softens his touches even more, urges Chaos to tip his head back over the sink while Dante pulls the shower head over so it's within easy reach. He probes along his lover's skull for any wounds or bruising, but there's none. He works shampoo into the dual-tone strands he fucking adores, slowly but surely working his way through the blood and dirt. By the time he's ready to finish up, fingers chasing the last of the suds from cleaned hair, Chaos is practically limp where he sits, humming quietly in contentment. Dante takes a good long look at his face with that golden opportunity, recognising the tired set to Chaos' face, the way he just looks so Goddamn drained, slumped as he is against the sink with his eyes closed. His lip's stopped bleeding and the cut is gone but there's still a hint of a bruise marring his mouth. His arm is in the middle of repairing itself, the skin seeming to ripple and shiver as bone grates and scrapes, the shattered splinters slowly realigning and fusing back into their previous shape and form.

He half drags half carries Chaos to the bedroom, the larger male clumsy on his feet and seemingly without a sense of balance. Laying him down on the bed is a relief - he can't injure himself further by toppling that way - but there's no time to relax just yet. He's seen Chaos' eyes and amber depths usually burning with emotion of some sort, practically glowing with life, are dull and echoing the exhaustion his body shows. He's very nearly asleep and he hasn't been on the bed for five minutes. Dante shoves the pillows aside and sits propped up against the headboard, encouraging Chaos to sit up as well, back pressed to Dante's chest. His wings spread out and fall across the mattress, seemingly boneless, but he knows that isn't from being relaxed. He drapes his arm over Chaos' shoulder, bending so his wrist is close.

"Take from me, Chaos." A quiet murmur, almost a request. His lover stirs in his hold, a soft sigh leaving his pale lips.

"'m fine Dante. I just need sleep to recover."

"Please." That brings him up short. He knows Chaos wants to ask, but his demonic partner refrains from voicing a question and for that Dante is thankful. He can't say he's terrified Chaos, if he sleeps now without feeding, won't wake up again. Just the thought makes breathing harder and his throat tighten uncomfortably. He feels the sharp sting of fangs peering the inside of his wrist but the pain soon numbs. Chaos is different in his feed, silent and more… slow than usual with each swallow. It's testament to the shape he's in, how much he's downplaying for Dante's peace of mind. Only when he starts feeling woozy does he carefully pull his wrist away from his exhausted partner, and not five minutes later Chaos is asleep, completely oblivious to the world.

They stay like that all night, Dante up against the headboard and Chaos leaning on him, head tipped back and to the side slightly, resting on Dante's shoulder and warm breath ghosting up to his cheek. One arm stays around Chaos' waist to keep him in place while the other hand remains firmly pressed on his chest and the faint heartbeat he can just feel and no more - the only solid proof Dante has that Chaos is still with him.

As demon hunter and protector of the Planet, it's difficult for them to drop their walls and let emotions out, it's hard to just… show they care. But they both know, and in times like this when one is injured, their feelings are made all the more clearer. As impossible as it would seem, they love each other. No if's, but's or maybe's about it. They love. Completely and utterly. And sometimes, the bond between them is the only thing keeping one safely on this side of Death's door, even when they're knocking on it.


End file.
